


Journal of a Mental Patient

by newdog14



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Dark, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, lunatic asylums were really terrible back in the day, minor depictions of past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newdog14/pseuds/newdog14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June 1st, 1893</p>
<p>My sister Mabel checked me into The Gravity Falls Lunatic Asylum today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journal of a Mental Patient

_June 1 st, 1893_

_My sister Mabel checked me into The Gravity Falls Lunatic Asylum today. She said I needed help, but I don’t think the people here want to help me. The matron doesn’t seem to like me much, though from what I can tell she doesn’t really like anyone. My room is small, but I don’t mind. I wish there were kids my age here though, all the other patients I’ve met are adults. But I won’t be lonely, since my best friends all came here with me. Though they don’t seem to like it here much. I think it’s because everyone is trying to convince me that they don’t exist. I get it though, if someone started saying that I didn’t exist, I don’t think I’d like them much either. But it almost seems like it’s more than that, if I didn’t know any better I’d say they were uneasy about something, though they’d never admit to anything like that. I’m sure it’s nothing too serious though, Mabel would never have sent me somewhere dangerous._

_June 5 th, 1893_

_The matron yelled at me today. It was lunch time, and I wanted to set a place for Bill, but the matron wouldn’t let me! She said that Bill was made up, and that I was too old to have imaginary friends. I tried to tell her that Bill wasn’t imaginary, but she wouldn’t listen and then she locked me in solitary confinement. Bill followed me in anyway though, and he thinks that we should make the matron pay. I’m not happy about her dismissing me, but Bill’s methods always seem so violent to me. Sure she’s mean, but she doesn’t deserve…that. Bill showed me what he wanted to do, but I don’t know how to even begin describing it. There was an awful lot of blood though._

_June 9 th, 1893_

_The matron lit someone on fire today. I don’t know who they were, but it looked painful. I can still hear the screaming, and I can see them withering on the ground in agony every time I close my eyes. I think I’ll let Bill go through with one of his less violent plans to get back at the matron, she deserves it. Everyone’s really excited to see what Bill’s gonna do to her though, and that makes me a bit nervous, but Bill said I shouldn’t worry about her._

_June 15 th, 1893_

_The matron fell down a flight of steps today. At least, that’s the official story. But I know better. Bill pushed her, he told me he did. The matron hit her head, and they say she might not wake up. The institution hired someone new, and I feel terrible about setting Bill loose on someone. He says I shouldn’t feel guilty though, because she was a very mean woman and she deserved far worse than what she got. Bill’s probably right, he almost always is, but I still feel awful about it._

_June 17 th, 1893_

_I told Dr. Gleeful that it was my fault the previous matron had gotten hurt. He seemed confused, so I explained how Bill had pushed her for revenge. I also told him that she had lit someone on fire. He told me that I was being silly, and that no one had been lit on fire. Then he asked if I was the one who’d pushed her. I repeated that I hadn’t, it had been Bill, but he didn’t believe me. He said that I couldn’t blame my actions on imaginary people, I told him that Bill was neither imaginary nor a person. He tried to tell me that Bill was just a figment of my imagination, and that I was stuck in the mind of a twelve year old because of something traumatic. He said that Bill and my other friends were just a coping method, people I’d invented to be guardians. I told him that they didn’t like it when people said they was imaginary, and I told the doctor that he really ought to apologize, but he wouldn’t. He just laughed at me. That made me angry, and it made Bill angry too. So I told him that if he didn’t apologize to my friends I’m let Bill loose again, and then Dr. Gleeful locked me in solitary again._

_June 20 th, 1893_

_Dr. Gleeful is dead. One of the attendants found him in a closet with a knife sticking out of his chest. They think I did it because he had told them what I’d said about Bill. They can’t prove anything of course, but I heard one of the attendants saying that I would get in serious trouble when they found the evidence. He said they’d probably lobotomize me. I’m not sure what that means, but I know it’s bad. Bill says I don’t need to worry though, he said he’d never let anyone hurt his Pine Tree. I believe him, but I’m still scared. And I feel terrible too, I never wanted anyone to die. I could have stopped Bill, but I didn’t. I let him kill someone. Maybe I do deserve to be lobotomized._

_June 23 rd, 1893_

_The new matron has turned out to be even worse than the last. She locked me in the courtyard last night, even though there was a thunderstorm. It was the scariest night of my life, and even though I’ve been inside for hours I still feel cold as ice. Bill’s furious about it, and I haven’t seen him this angry since the kids at my old school beat me up for talking to myself. I told him that he couldn’t just go around killing people, even though he said he’d be careful about it. He could even make it look like an accident, and everyone else thought I should let him get revenge, but I stayed firm. He’s still really angry though, so I don’t know if he’s going to listen to me. I thought maybe if the matron got in trouble Bill would feel better, so I told the attendant who brings me my medicine about it. That was a mistake. He told me it was part of my therapy, and that it was only done to help me. I asked him how sleeping outside during a thunderstorm could possibly help me, and he said it was to teach me to respect my superiors. Then he left. The only good thing was that he forgot to make me swallow my medicine. I always hate how cloudy it makes my head. I hate everything here. This place is terrible, and I have to constantly remind myself that Mabel didn’t know it would be like this when she brought me here. She couldn’t have. She never would have knowingly brought me somewhere so horrible…right?_

_June 26 th, 1893_

_Bill struck out again. At least he stayed true to his word and made sure it didn’t look like murder. The new matron “jumped” out of a third story window, and smashed her head in the courtyard. Bill said they’d never be able to get the blood out of the concrete. And the attendant who brought me my medicine was found swinging from a noose in the common area. I don’t feel guilty this time though. Bill said he fixed my head so that I wouldn’t feel bad about people getting what was coming to them. I wish he could fix my head enough that they’d let me out of here._

_June 30 th, 1893_

_I don’t think murder is the best way to change things. Every person that Bill takes care of just gets replaced by someone who’s even worse. Bill says he just hasn’t been murdering the right people, but he hasn’t told me who the right people are yet. I’m not so certain that he knows either. I asked him if I could do anything to help, but he said he and the others would handle it. I guess that’s for the best, I might start feeling guilty again if I knew what they were planning._

_July 5 th, 1893_

_The superintendent of the asylum was murdered today. Apparently he was disemboweled in his office, and the entire room was covered in blood and guts. The authorities were really confused about it, because there were no signs of forced entry. They’re pretty sure it was a patient though, because the scene was set up life some kind of grotesque party. His heart was made into a centerpiece and his intestines had been strung up like streamers. I told Bill that it was really creepy to decorate a room with someone’s internal organs, but he said he’d just been trying to make a point. And also that it was really fun and he may have gotten carried away. That worries me a bit, but at this point I don’t think I can control Bill at all. He’s gotten stronger since we’ve been here, sometimes I can see a triangular shadow following me around. It’s really reassuring to know he’s watching me so closely though._

_July 10 th, 1893_

_The asylum is under new management, but nothing’s changed. I’m starting to think it never will. Maybe this is how every asylum is. Maybe people just don’t care about lunatics like me. Bill told me that I was perfectly sane and shouldn’t refer to myself that way. I told him that it was hard not to in a place like this. I hate living here, I just want to go home. Bill said he’d start looking for a way out. I’m so lucky to have a friend like him looking out for me._

_July 17 th, 1893_

_Bill’s figured out how to get out of here, and he said we could leave tonight it I want to. I can’t wait to be home again, to see Mabel again. Bill’s great, but I’ve missed talking to my twin. I think everyone’s missed the outside world though, it’s way more fun than this stuffy old place._

_July 18 th, 1893_

_Bill’s plan worked, and we made it out with no trouble. But when we got home Mabel brought me right back. I tried to tell her about all the horrible things that had been going on, even the murders, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She said I was sick, and that I couldn’t come home until the doctors made me better. She said she didn’t want to see me again until I had regained my sanity and realized that not everything I see is real. Her words hurt me more than anything else that’d happened to me this summer. Not even my own twin would believe me. She wouldn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. When we got back to the asylum they locked me in solitary again, but that’s hardly even a punishment anymore. It just lets me talk to everyone without anyone looking at me weird. Bill told me that we could escape again, but I told him there wasn’t any point because we had nowhere to go. He said that anywhere would better than this place, nowhere included. He’s probably right, but I don’t see how it matters. Even if we get out, there’s always the chance of getting sent right back. No, just running away wasn’t permanent. Lucky for me I know how to get out for good, though Bill really doesn’t like that idea. I don’t know if I like it all that much either, but I know it’d get me out of here. For good this time too._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_O̵̧̺̭̭̣̫̳͎̲̰ͣ͐͗̈́ͨͨH̩̖̙̠͌̅͑̃̓ ̮̟͚̪̜̭͓̰̈́̃ͫ̆̄͐ͅP̺͙͍͂͑̾̍͌͞Į̴̱̺ͭ͢Ņ̦͔̳͚͙͕͚̗͒͊ͯ̊ͣ͌̎͊̓E̡̤͔̦̟̖͓͋ͥͯͫ̓͑̀ͮͯ̕͟ ̭͖̙̣ͧ̉ͪ̒̏ͪ͛͡ͅͅT̷ͪ͗҉̤͙͕̦̘̲͟ͅR͇̙̻̱̘̃̍̚Ē̟͈͘͡E̛̲͎̫͔̪̭̝͐̉͘͝,̨͓̣͚͚̺͉̾ͤ̊̃̍ ̷̢̲̞̲̂̐̓ͩ̈́͒ͬ͆ͅY̶̢͖̪͔̓̋ͦͩ̊̒Ô͍͕̬͎̬̹̭̞ͩ̍͑͒̉̋̉U̙̣͍̯͈͚̬̻͛͌̑ͫ͢ ̟͚̮͓͔͍͖̳ͣ̏S̥͖̳͋̉ͪ͢͡͝H̼̗͍͎̺̬̣̐͒́O̸͖͚̥͖̰͉͕̔̃̄̿͐̋͘U͚̖̯̓̒ͨͨ́͊͌L̤̙̼̯͇͓̤͑ͭD̶̶̞͉̂̅N̩̦͔̞̙̼̿̅̒͘͡'̷̦ͪͦͭ̆͝T̘̻̣̾̌ͦ̋̅͆̒ ̽ͨͭ̏̈́͊ͨ̚͏̢̺̫͇H͎̘̩͖͈͍̼͖͐̊̓ͥͯͩͨ͂ͥA̸̛͙̻͈̮͊͆͊̊̉͛ͤ̑ͬ́V̷̢̧̤̣͔̖̯̦͛ͮͦE̻̬̬̫̟ͨ͋̅̄͌̌̚͝ ̔̌҉̥̞̭̯̬̮ͅD̵̈̒͂͗͑̈̚͏̴̞ͅO͔̙̺̟̟̫͐̒͗ͫ̓ͦͪ̿͋͜N̞͙̼ͥ͛̔Ĕ̴̢̛͙̜̜͔̟͍͓̬ͣ̐ͣ̈̈ͅ ̸͍̝̝̜̳̟̥ͯͨ̐̅̀̋̓̓͝T̪̮̞̣͇̻̤̊͆Ḧ̶͙̫̻̯̝̥͎̒̍͌͆́͘A̴͓͔̱̗̞͂ͭͫ̇̅̈́̓T̢̗̖͙͎̙̼̯͇̒ͥ̀̚͜_ **


End file.
